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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085909">For Want and Warmth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMoosie/pseuds/MrsMoosie'>MrsMoosie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:28:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMoosie/pseuds/MrsMoosie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas has always been spent together. Crowley is off to see Aziraphale, yet Aziraphale is off to see Crowley. When they meet, chilled to the bone in the middle Aziraphale takes care of his friend. They come to realize that maybe this would be their last holiday together as friends.</p><p>Written for the GO Winter Wonderland Zine!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Omens Winter Wonderland Zine</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Want and Warmth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was my first zine publication aaah! </p><p>Written and  published in the SFW edition of the GO Winter Wonderland Zine.</p><p>Sort of a... Gift of the Magi-esque fic... With fluff.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Flurries were falling gracefully from darkened clouds over London. They fluttered down, dancing through the quiet streets before landing on the pavement, where they were crushed by a snakeskin boot. The blackened sky gave promise of a cold, blustery, snowy night which, if you were cold blooded, would indicate the correct thing to do was stay at home wrapped in as many blankets as you could muster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley never liked to do the correct thing. He was a being of chaos, and as such he held a parcel close to his chest as he trudged through the whipping wind instead. The crisp red and gold filigree paper of the package hid the contents against the stormy wind and incoming precipitation. Expertly curled red and gold ribbon held everything together, though the same could not be said for Crowley’s ensemble. His long woolen coat blew behind his gangly body in the wind, and a hand turned his collar up to keep the wind from burning against his cheek. He didn’t dare turn back from his mission at hand. The parcel was far too important to give up for. The recipient was as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a long walk, but the roads were too slick already to take the Bentley out. As much as Aziraphale complained and begged him to just stay home for the evening, Crowley refused to listen. There was no way he was allowing Aziraphale to stay in, alone, on Christmas Eve. No matter the ice and snow, the impending storm, or the cold air that was going right through his cold blooded body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he found himself outside of the bookshop door, shivering and lifted a fist, banging on the door. His body was shivering, and he could swear that there were icicles hanging off the end of his eyelashes, his nose, and his ears. His body was trembling horribly, clutching the package tightly to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Aziraphale answer…” He chattered out, jumping from foot to foot, bouncing on his toes. There were no lights on inside the book shop, and after several minutes it remained dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Crowley, Aziraphale had been walking in the opposite direction carrying a blue rectangular package, decorated with silver snowflakes. Unlike Crowley, he was bundled up with a scarf, hat and gloves, a thick cream colored irish knit sweater underneath it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon arrival, bright blue eyes glanced up at the apartment building and a smile spread across his face. Plush cheeks turned a soft pink as he entered the building. It was heated, the warmth spreading through his body as he walked in and to the elevator. He clutched the gift close as he stood in the elevator, watching the numbers climb up to the top floor where Crowley’s apartment resided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the doors opened, Aziraphale walked down the hall and stood outside of the door. He rang the bell, and waited patiently. There was no sound on the other side as Aziraphale stood and waited. He rocked back and forth on his toes, hands fumbling with the package and waiting. It was too quiet though, and Aziraphale began to worry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley snarled, giving up as he finally lost feeling in not only his hands, but his feet as well. He gave a wave of his hand, unable to snap from the cold seeping through his body. Nearly frostbitten, Crowley entered, slamming the door shut behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale?!” He shouted, teeth chattering, “Aziraphale you left me outside freezing my- Angel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley realized how silent the shop was, how dark and ominous it felt inside. Mainly he realized how empty it was, and the lack of any angelic presence. Crowley let the warmth of the shop seep into his body and he sighed, flipping his glasses on top of his head. Something was amiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Aziraphale continued to ring the doorbell and wait, but was losing patience. He wasn’t sure if Crowley was sleeping, or out causing mayhem and mischief. He was so certain they agreed to meet tonight. Christmas Eve, they were going to eat, drink, be merry and so on. Aziraphale looked down at the box he held and sighed. He was certain it was a miscommunication. It couldn’t possibly be that Crowley didn’t want to see him! They’d been doing this for ages, putting differences aside and celebrating together. There were far too many holidays to celebrate, really. They’d settled on Christmas though, mainly to celebrate the birth of Jesus. He had been a dear friend of theirs. Religious affiliation aside, it was a celebration of the carpenter’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, they’d both given up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley left the bookshop, glasses on and collar turned up against the wind and snow. He held his package pressed tightly to his chest. He wasn’t angry, so much as disappointed that Aziraphale hadn’t been around. He enjoyed their annual holiday gathering and drinking. Aziraphale would eat while Crowley drank and watched him. He’d wondered for decades, millennia even if Aziraphale could feel the lust radiating off of him as those forkfuls of cake passed through those sinfully plush lips, that pink tongue darting out to taste the sugar left behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t fair… He wanted to be cake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley held his coat tightly around himself as he trudged through the horrid weather, glasses splattered with snow as the storm picked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley stopped dead in his tracks and looked across the street to where the voice came from. There, standing surrounded by show was Aziraphale. He looked completely ethereal, under a street light surrounded by snow in his long tan jacket, a dark blue cap sat on top of his golden curls, matching gloves on his hands. Crowley didn’t look twice before he stepped into the road. There were no cars out anyway in this weather. He crossed the street purposefully, eyes trained on the literal Angel before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale where were you? I was outside the shop, had to let myself in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, “I was at your flat for nearly an hour ringing the doorbell. I’m afraid your neighbors may be a bit angry with all the ringing of-” Aziraphale stopped his thought and noticed Crowley’s lips had turned blue. He was shivering, teeth clattering together and body shaking. Poor demon was freezing, suffering in the cold while waiting outside the shop while Aziraphale was waiting in the warmth outside his flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale took his hand and squeezed, “Poor thing, you’re chilled to the bone. Come home with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley wasn’t sure what had just happened. He could swear Aziraphale was holding his hand, but couldn’t comprehend if it was real. His hands were too numb to feel their skin touching, or maybe he was numb at the fact their hands were touching. He was dazed, his mind numb from so many things happening. Hands, words, touching… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could figure out what was happening, they were back to the book shop. Crowley found himself bullied through the door, the red and gold package still clutched to his chest. His brain was in a fog, hardly realizing the door closed behind him. Aziraphale set his gift down before pulling his hat and gloves off, leaving them beside the door on the radiator to warm. His coat followed suit, hanging it on the rack moved beside the radiator for warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your coat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale smiled gently and stepped around in front of Crowley. He held his blue and silver package in his hands, eyebrows raised, “I asked if you’d like me to take your coat? It looks rather damp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Crowley lifted a hand and snapped, removing his coat to hang beside Aziraphale’s, leaving his torso covered by a partly unbuttoned black dress shirt. He didn’t realize Aziraphale wasn’t in a waist coat, that he was dressed so casually and comfortably instead of… Well like he always was. He just continued to clutch his package in freezing cold fingers, looking down as if it would answer the questions burning through him. If only those questions would warm him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go in the back. I have scotch and wine, and I’ll turn the stove on. You need to get warmed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, Angel. Sounds good.” Crowley finally looked up and offered a crooked smile. Aziraphale returned it, taking a step back and leading the way through the shop. The route was familiar, something Crowley had done thousands of times before. Tonight felt so different though. He felt like he needed the guidance, he needed his hand to be held and shown where to go, what to do, and especially how he should be feeling. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was making him tremble. Perhaps it was his cold blooded nature having been exposed to the elements. It could be Aziraphale wearing that sweater that hugged his form in all the right places. It could be that he had held his hand. More than likely, it was just everything about Aziraphale that evening. He’d always known there was something more that they shared together. Something deeper and more valuable than friendship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale gave a snap and lit the old black pot belly stove in the corner to warm the shop. He set his package down on his desk, turning bright blue eyes back to Crowley. Crowley found his mouth dry. He felt stupid for staring, but he just couldn’t find anything else for himself to do at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can sit down.” Aziraphale directed. Crowley quickly sat, hoping to please his host.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry just… Cold still.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scotch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Scotch. So much.” Crowley held his package in his lap tightly and watched Aziraphale walk into the back to retrieve the bottle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see.” Aziraphale started, “When we agreed to get together this year, I think it was a bit lost in translation where we were going to be meeting! See last year we met here, and I thought you’d said to come to your flat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…” Crowley responded after a moment of thought, “See, I thought we’d just meet here every year. So I just did what I always… I just came here.” He fumbled over the words, finally taking his glasses off. They were set on the small table beside him, even if only for something to do with his hands. He hated how hard this was. Why was it so hard? Why was talking suddenly a chore?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Why would we come here? I thought we switched every year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley froze and thought,</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘Why indeed, you fool?’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t want to say why he came to the shop. He didn’t want to give away his position- he needed the upperhand, he needed to stay on top of things and ahead of the conversation. He was losing ground though. He was losing his mind, more like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Instinct.” He blurted out, “Just used to coming here all the time I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! That makes sense. We hardly ever meet at yours.” Aziraphale came out from the back with two glasses of scotch. He handed one to Crowley, their fingers brushing just slightly as his hand touched the glass. Crowley knew his cheeks tinged pink and he turned his head, but realized too late that Aziraphale was still holding on, and their fingers were still touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale I have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah… So you do.” Aziraphale took his hand away and Crowley could have sworn he saw the Angel’s cheeks were a deep red before he spun around to his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An interesting development.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I suppose we should toast!” Aziraphale turned, cheeks back to normal. He held his own glass up toward Crowley, eyes crinkling at the corners, “To the holiday season, and old friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheers to that, Angel.” Crowley leaned forward, allowing their glasses to clink together before they sipped. Crowley may have taken more than a sip, and required a refill immediately following the toast. He realized that Aziraphale needed the same as he sat down, pouring more of that glorious amber liquid into his glass, before offering seconds to Crowley. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I um… I don’t really have much to nibble on since I wasn’t expecting this.” Aziraphale said as he finished pouring Crowley’s glass. He replaced the bottle onto his desk, looking a bit lost as to what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Crowley looked down into his glass, “I mean if you want to call for takeaway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t imagine any shops are still open, Crowley. It’s Christmas eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I won’t eat, Angel, just worry about yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> eat, at least something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, when is the last time you saw me eat, Angel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you call me that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s mouth gaped open and he leaned back into the couch, looking away. He could hear his heart thumping against his chest, trying to escape this conversation, escape the look Aziraphale was giving him. Expectations of an answer deeper than what Crowley had actually come up with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… ‘Cause you’re an Angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t call you ‘Demon’...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… Don’t worry about food for me, yeah?” Crowley noticed out the window that the snow was really starting to come down. There was no easy way to leave any longer- he was in this for the long haul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got you a gift.” Crowley wasn’t paying attention until this moment, and he quickly turned back to Aziraphale. The Angel quickly polished off his second glass of scotch- although perhaps it was his third. The liquid in the bottle seemed to be inching closer to the bottom faster than either had realized. Crowley realized that he was still holding his own package in one hand, his empty glass in the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I got you one, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How funny.” Aziraphale’s cheeks turned pink, “We’ve been doing this for about a thousand years, and this is the first time either of us brought gifts- and yet we </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>did!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, real funny.” Crowley clutched his box tighter. This was stupid. He shouldn’t have brought a gift, especially not this one. He should just send it back to his apartment, hide it behind a plant and forget about it. Too late now, Aziraphale was eyeballing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Aziraphale took the package off his desk, leaning forward to hand it to Crowley, “It’s not much but um… Here.” His cheeks turned red as Crowley met his eye. Thin hands touched the sides of the box and accepted the gift, uncertain what exactly he was supposed to do. He set his gift aside, picking up his gift for Aziraphale from his lap and holding it out nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I um… Yeah.” Crowley’s eyes glanced from the red and gold wrapping and ribbon to Aziraphale. He didn’t want to give it up. He didn’t want Aziraphale to open it, and to see the contents, and learn what was inside. He was embarrassed- what if it wasn’t good enough? What if Aziraphale just laughed at him, thought it was childish?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can go first.” Aziraphale took the box and sat back down, holding it tightly in his lap. Fingers caressed over the curled ribbon absentmindedly, air heavy with anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley set his scotch down on the small table beside him and looked at the perfectly wrapped box in his lap, hands trembling. It couldn’t possibly be the cold making him shake any longer. This was nerves. They’d never in six thousand years exchanged gifts for any reason whatsoever, so for some reason this year, something changed. Something made them realize that human made material objects were much more important and meaningful than they ever previously thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue and silver ribbons were removed and set aside as if made of glass. Then the paper, revealing a sturdy white box. Thin hands shook as the lid was lifted off, and then a gasp left his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside was a beautiful hand knit black winter cap, with red trim around the brim. Underneath the hat lay a set of finely crafted black leather gloves, with similar red trim around the wrist. Finally, below that, a black knit scarf with red trim on the ends that complimented the hat perfectly. Three small objects that offered warmth, that Crowley could swear smelled like Aziraphale, and hoped that they always would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you… Did you make these, Angel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it that obvious?” Aziraphale asked shyly, “Not the gloves, of course. The um… I’ve been working on them for quite a long time and finally finished… I hope they’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny, I could have used these earlier.” Crowley joked, letting out a small laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s um… There’s one more item in there.” Aziraphale leaned backward. His voice cracked in nervousness, his cheeks turning pink. Crowley’s eyebrow raised and he lifted up the three objects revealing a single item in the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A white feather lay, pristine and perfectly preened. Crowley’s heart dropped into his stomach as he dropped the other three objects haphazardly onto the couch and lifted the single item. It shook in his hand as he inspected it, knowing exactly where it had come from. It was possibly the most intimate, beautiful object that he’d ever been given in his existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>have used those earlier.” Aziraphale laughed to himself, eyes brimming with frightened tears. He kept his gaze trained on his hands that were wrapped around the gift in his lap, “I um… I just… I thought the feather… I mean I don’t know since we’ve been so… Crowley I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span> to… If you don’t like it I get it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop.” Crowley said quietly, “Just… Open mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale nodded obediently, giving a sniff. He touched the ribbon, expertly removing it and setting it on his desk just as gently as Crowley had done. The paper was removed, each side folded down and away to expose a similar, black box inside. Aziraphale lifted the lid and let out a laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside was a small white box, a picture of a mobile phone on the lid that boasted how ‘easy to use’ it was. Aziraphale let out a laugh, wiping another tear from his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems we should have exchanged gifts yesterday.” He joked, looking up. Crowley was holding his feather still, watching Aziraphale intently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Under the box, Angel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he looked back into the box, setting the phone onto his desk. When his eyes cast back inside, he gasped and a hand came up to cover his mouth. He trembled and reached inside, pulling out a perfectly preened black feather. Aziraphale’s breathing picked up and tears fell down his cheeks, over his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was something so small, yet so intimate that they had each done for one another. It was surprising, shocking even that they’d both thought of the same thing- somehow it wasn’t though. They knew one another so well, and over the years that they’d been doing this, that they’d stopped the Apocalypse, been on their own side… Aziraphale supposed that this was just a matter of time. He’d felt Crowley’s love, but was never sure what it was. Now though, sitting across from one another, it was an overwhelmingly powerful force that was sure to make him do anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale, I don’t…” Crowley started, but he lost train of thought. He set the white feather into the box and clasped his hands together, trying to find the words. Aziaphale placed the black feather back into the box and set it down on his desk, quickly standing. He reached a hand down toward Crowley, unable to stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Aziraphale said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley looked at the hand and reached out, trembling as he took it. Aziraphale squeezed it and pulled Crowley to stand. Without another thought or word, Crowley found himself launched into a toe curling kiss. Their hands squeezed together, Azirpahale’s knuckles brushed against the Demon’s cheek. Blue eyes closed as they finally connected. Their first act of intimacy, something so pure and gentle, love bursting between them. Crowley’s hand grabbed at Aziraphale’s waist, pulling him in closer, finding himself pushing further into Aziraphale’s space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally their lips pulled away and foreheads pressed together. Their hands parted, Aziraphale touching both of Crowley’s cheeks. His thumbs stroked over the soft skin, assuring himself that this was real, that Crowley was standing so close to him, holding his waist. Thumbs brushed against his sides, sending a shiver through his body, up his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” Crowley whimpered, pulling Aziraphale closer and crushing their mouths together again. Aziraphale pushed back against Crowley’s mouth, a hand slipping into his hair and pulling him back just enough so their lips hardly met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I’d been obvious.” Aziraphale breathed, mouth dipping to kiss over Crowley’s jawline, lips gradually brushing against his ear, “I’ve wanted nothing more in our entire existence than to just kiss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley let out a soft mewl and tilted his head to the side, lifting a hand into Aziraphale’s hair and holding him close. Plush lips kissed back down his neck, pink tongue licking over sensitive skin. Teeth scraped down to where Crowley’s shirt collar started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel…” Crowley gasped softly, grasping Aziraphale tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you felt like this?” Aziraphale’s thick fingers slipped down Crowley’s torso, feeling over every inch of cloth covered skin. Lips kissed down to where his shirt remained buttoned and back up, making sure he was kissing over each piece of exposed chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… What?” Crowley felt dizzy with all of the emotions running through him. There was desire, but also a strong feeling of devotion. For a demon to meddle lust and love together at the same time, his head was spinning. Crowley’s knees buckled and he felt his body drop, hands weakly grabbing onto Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelped. Strong arms hugged around his waist and held him up. They met face to face, blue eyes wide with concern and confusion. “What’s wrong? What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couch… Sit…” Crowley mumbled out. Aziraphale nodded and sat the thin body on the couch beside his gift. He repacked the winter accessories and feather into the box and set it onto the desk beside his own, quickly moving to sit down on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… It was too much, Aziraphale. All at once. My um…” Crowley fumbled for the words, “Wiring got crossed I guess. Demon, not used to the whole caring thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley… Oh I shouldn’t have- so fast, I’m so sorry.” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed and he shrunk back into the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah ‘s fine. Just shocked, ya know? Didn’t… Realize you’d react like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I wanted you to.” Crowley looked up, “I thought that I wanted all of… of that but it wasn’t what I expected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O- Oh.” Aziraphale shrunk back further. Did that mean he wasn’t good enough? Had Crowley expected him to be better than he was? Aziraphale wasn’t given much time to linger over such thoughts, as Crowley continued and shut them all down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was… Angel you’re so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>better </span>
  </em>
  <span>than I’d ever thought. I just… I don’t think I can comprehend everything with you at once. Your kiss… Angel, my expectations were here.” Crowley lifted his hand and held it, hovering above his lap, “And you were…” His other hand shot up, reaching as high toward the ceiling as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a bad thing though… Right? If it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley nodded, “What I’m trying to say, Angel… It’s Christmas Eve. We should talk about all this before we get um... carried away, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carried away...” Aziraphale flushed and found his hands very interesting at the moment. Carried away? What did that even mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying we shouldn’t do more than… What we were doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Aziraphale was still lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn it. The kissing, Angel. I don’t want to do more than that yet and go too fast just yet.” Crowley’s face was red from embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Aziraphale nodded, finally understanding. Leave it to Crowley to set the pace. Blue eyes lifted and looked at Crowley, realizing how his cheeks were red, his hair disheveled, his shirt partly undone. He was a gorgeous mess, and Aziraphale never felt happier. Crowley wanted to do more than kiss. He wanted to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not now though. Not when they had just realized- what </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> it that they realized?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a silence between them and Aziraphale’s eyes closed in thought. He knew what he realized. He knew what this was, the name for it. He had to voice it though, and that was frightening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright Angel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think…” The silence rang in Aziraphale’s ears and he tensed, but only a moment. He looked into Crowley’s yellow eyes and swallowed hard, “If I had to put a name to all this, Crowley… It feels like… The only way to put it is… I’m in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s hands grasped at his lap. His face started to twitch, lips curving into a smile like he’d never had before. It was pure happiness, warmth spreading through and around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ve been- No, I am, in love with you too, Angel. I don’t know that there’s any other way to put it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a silence between the couple as they sat on the couch, hands finding one another and squeezing tightly. Aziraphale felt the warmth within him, the feeling of Crowley’s love radiating off of his corporal form and surrounding him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale I’m not so read up about love and things like that. I’ve never had these sorts of feelings. I’m not some demon of lust, I’m just… I’m just me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just know that I like to be with you. That… That this is where I feel… I feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale felt his lip wobble and curve into a smile. An arm lifted and touched Crowley’s shoulder, coaxing him to lay into his side. Crowley welcomed the hug, the touch and affection gladly. He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck, sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can figure it out. Together.” Aziraphale squeezed his arm around thin shoulders and tilted his head to the side, kissing his hair, “We always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Know… It’s kinda funny.” Crowley moved his body closer, touching Aziraphale’s thigh. He looked to where his hand lay and a smile spread across his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm? What’s so funny?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything. The entire night has been a mess, like some ridiculous Christmas story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm… Gift of the Magi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dickens?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s A Wonderful Life? A Christmas Story? Oh, what’s that action hero one with- Ah! Die Hard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No, Aziraphale! Just… Shut up and hold me tighter.” Crowley said shyly, cheeks red. Aziraphale let out a small laugh and squeezed the Demon’s body closer, his free hand giving a snap to cover them both with a blanket. His hand dropped down onto Crowley’s, adjusting so their palms touched, fingers intertwining. Aziraphale felt his heart race, looking at their hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I um… I love you, Crowley.” He whispered. Crowley felt his own pulse pick up and that smile spread across his lips again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Aziraphale.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley let out a chuckle, “Oh yeah… Merry Christmas, Angel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay on the couch, curled up together happily. They recounted centuries of their time on Earth as they always did, and Christmases that had passed. They finally leaned into the conversation of when they began having such feelings for one another, and that was when the scotch came back out. A little liquid courage to have the conversation that was needed to be had. They couldn’t settle on dates specifically, or even years. Time wasn’t important, the moments that came between them were. So many times through history they’d each found themselves thinking of the other. Recent events, even small moments they’d had together Crowley realized he’d daydreamed about Aziraphale even just holding him like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a time though, it was the night Jesus was born. They’d stood outside the manger and watched the scene unfold through a small side window. The light that radiated off the babe’s body offered inner peace to all. Crowley was astonished, witnessing the birth of such an important child. Aziraphale watched his eyes widen with wonder and curiosity. It was possibly the first time he’d realized that Crowley was not so much an enemy, but a friend. Someone he’d want to be around, that may not be as bad as he thought. Aziraphale realized that was when he’d started to develop feelings. Now, just over two millennia later, they lay curled up on the couch underneath a blanket. Their hands intertwined, their bodies warming one another, their lips connecting every so often for a sweet kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was exactly where they needed to be, and they knew at that moment they would never even think of spending a single Christmas apart.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on IG @mrsmoosie35</p></blockquote></div></div>
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